


Domain of the Unseen

by fakeCRfan



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, M/M, noncanonical, sad feels, spoilers up to MAG 183
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27092020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeCRfan/pseuds/fakeCRfan
Summary: Martin spends a lot of time bracing himself for his own domain. He's heard Jon describe it, of course: a mix of the Eye and the Lonely, a domain full of people who are afraid of being forgotten or unnoticed.He isn't surprised by what he finds there.Whohe finds is another matter entirely.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 117





	Domain of the Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on my tumblr but figured it actually is a complete enough oneshot to post here. 
> 
> This isn't a theory or prediction for Martin's domain so much as a what-if. I seriously doubt this idea will be canon. But it came to mind and wanted to write it out.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The creeping questions start before they get to Martin’s domain. Martin knows they are heading towards it, but first they have other domains to cross. Those domains are where the uncertainty starts to settle in.

The first thing that gets his attention is a familiar face. It’s in a domain of of insects. There is a woman who has them crawling all over her. Martin looks, and recognizes her. Not someone he knows, exactly. But a face he’s seen before.

“Wait,’’ Martin says. “Jon, that’s—she was in--’’

Jon cannot hear, of course. He’s too busy narrating. _Sabina has always hated ants, ever since she was a child,_ he says, and Martin covers his ears. Later when they have left the domain of the crawling rot he points it out.

“That woman there,’’ Martin says. “She was in the burning building with Jude Perry.’’

“Ah,’’ Jon nods. “Yes. That happens. Some people have… more than one deep fear, and the Eye wants to capitalize on it as much as possible. And since the laws of time and space don’t matter anymore...’’

“She’s in both places at once,’’ Martin finishes. “Both in the burning building, and being eaten alive by insects. Wonderful.’’

“Bi-location isn’t any trouble in this world,’’ Jon says, and there is a bit of a grimace to it. “Not if it means the Eye can squeeze more terror out of you.’’

“Wish we could bi-locate to the Panopticon and take out Elias already,’’ Martin grumbles. “But no it’s only when it’s horrible, never when it’s convenient huh?’’

Jon laughs, and for the time that is all there is to say about that. 

* * *

The next domain is something like the buried, Martin thinks. Not worms under the earth, but people above it who can’t move or breathe. Paralysis, bindings—and then Martin sees a young boy struggling in a chair. Martin stops, stares for a moment, because it couldn’t be--

_Callum Brodie doesn’t know if they will let him go again,_ Jon intones. _He’s been begging, crying until his voice has gone hoarse. He can hardly breathe. The terrible darkness is bad enough, but--_

That is another conversation, afterwards.

“Did he quit, then?’’ Martin asks. “Callum Brodie?’’

“Hm? Oh, no,’’ Jon explains. “As much as Sabina is still burning in her apartment, Callum is still terrorizing other children on Night Street. A torturer in one realm, tortured in another.’’

“I thought having your own domain protected you?’’

But of course, Martin thinks the response before Jon says it.

“If the Eye can extract terror from you, it will. As you should know,’’ he says. “You have your own domain too, Martin, but you also are—you still suffered in that Lonely realm.’’

“Then what’s the point, if being a ‘Watcher’ or ‘Avatar’ doesn’t protect you?’’ Martin asks.

“Put it this way,’’ Jon says, grimly. “Would you prefer to have all of your existence be torture? Or would you like to just have, say, one-fourth of all your time being tortured and the other three-fourths torture free?’’

Martin sighs. “That isn’t nearly as fair as the Avatar thing seemed at first.’’

“Nothing about this world is fair,’’ Jon points out.

* * *

The topic doesn’t come up again in the next few domains. Then, they get to his domain. The domain of the Unseen, the unnoticed.

Not many people, as Jon had told him. Martin sees maybe five figures. Nondescript silhouettes wandering, shaking with quiet sobs. Martin doesn’t recognize them.

“Let’s move on,’’ Jon says.

“Wait.’’ Martin knows it’s going to hurt, but he feels like it’s his responsibility to know who he’s hurting. “’Who are they?’’

But then, Jon doesn’t have to tell him. Because Martin looks over his shoulder at one of the silhouettes, and there is something odd about it, about the tired, defensive hunch in its posture. The outline is… disheveled. Even obscured as it is, Martin can tell the figure’s clothing is torn. It’s all stomach-droppingly familiar.

Then, Martin looks to the figure’s hand. They are holding a tape recorder.

“Jon?’’ Martin asks, afraid.

“Martin.’’ Jon’s voice breaks. “I--’’

And he can’t hold back the statement.

_He thought that he’d wake up to some kind of welcome. Stupid. As though anyone would care. As though he would deserve their care. He wishes they’d go back to yelling at him. He wishes they’d look at him, at least, instead of turning their eyes away._

_He puts on his softest smiles, his kindest voice. He was never good at kindness, before. At niceties. At compassion. Is that why they all turned away from him? Is that why he’s so achingly lonely?_

“ _Where have you been? I mean, I thought--’’ he asks. “How are you? Is everything--’’_

_But for all he puts on his kindest, nicest voice, the One He Loves turns away._

Martin holds Jon when he realizes. Holds him through the statement, burying his face in the crook of Jon’s neck. When Jon comes to, he squeezes tighter.

“It’s not true,’’ Martin says.

“I know,’’ Jon manages. “Subjective reality, and all that.’‘

“I love you.’’ Martin can feel his voice getting higher. “I love you more than anything, I don’t want--’’

“I know.’’

“I always will,’’ Martin says. “I’ll always be with you.’’

But to this Jon says nothing, as the Archivist cannot know the future.

Part of Jonathan Sims will always be here. Knowing this has happened before. Knowing it can happen in the ever uncertain future. Fearing what series of mistakes he might make that could cause him to be abandoned again.

But the whole thing is making Martin upset, and so instead of saying all of that, Jon puts on his softest smile. It hurts on his face, a pain that sears down into his chest.

“I love you too, Martin.’‘


End file.
